You Belong With Me
by aca-avenger
Summary: Nerd!Brittany, Jock!Santana. Being a genius with a filtering problem and an occasional stutter hasn't made things for Brittany S. Pierce. The remarriage of her father brings new opportunities, friends, love and a transfer to McKinley. With the retaliation of her new step-sister and her old glee club, will she be able to help New Directions win it's first national title? ON HIATUS!
1. I

This is a story I've been planning out in my head for about a month, I have only just gotten the chance to start writing it. I have fair bit of leeway in this story so far in the planning so if there's anything you want to see just let me know and I'll see what I can do. I hope you guys enjoy! (:

_Dear Diary,_

_I've finally gotten all of my boxes unpacked and everything organized in my room, not without a few moments of panic I assure you. First, I had thought Dad had put my box of Captain America and X-Men sheets in storage; thankfully Judy found them mixed with boxes of Dad's things. Second, it began to pour as I took my boxes of comic out of the moving van, once I got them all into the house I checked for any damage; I was happy to find non had been hurt, they now safely rest in their new home in my room's walk in closet. Who needs that much room for clothes anyhow?_

_Tomorrow is my first day at McKinley. Judy said Quinn would show me around but I don't think Quinn likes me very much so I'll probably end up showing myself around and getting lost. Hopefully I'll like it there as much as I did at Carmel. I already miss glee club and comic club. Maybe McKinley might have those too. I'll find out tomorrow. Hopefully, Quinn will show me around so I won't miss my classes because I got lost which frequently occurred my first month as a freshman at Carmel. Let's hope tomorrow goes well._

_Goodnight,_

_Brittany S. Pierce_

_P.S: Lord Tubbington, please stop smoking cigarettes in my new room. If you're going to smoke, smoke outside. Please._

* * *

"Come on Queen of the Nerds, you're making me late." I wasn't even half way through my bowl of Lucky Charms, cereal first and saving the marshmallows for last, when Quinn's impatient voice echoes through the kitchen.

According to the microwave clock it wasn't even quarter after seven. "How could you possibly be late? School doesn't start 'til eight-thirty." I ask, frankly quite puzzled at how it would take us a full hour to get to school before the first bell at eight-fifteen if we only lived less than eight minutes away. Driving the speed limit of twenty-five miles per hour we lived exactly seven minutes and thirty-two seconds away, barring any traffic jams or children running into traffic.

"I have Cheerios practice that starts", she looks at the microwave, "in nine minutes. So hurry up and get ready or you're walking." She walks away with a slight huff, grabbing her gym bag off the floor.

So much for saving the best for last; I rush down my lucky charms and chug my glass of apple juice before running upstairs to get ready for school. Luckily, I had chosen my 'first day at McKinley' outfit last might before I went to bed last night.

Reaching my room I throw off my sweats I had put on after my shower and replace them with a white storm trooper t-shirt and black classic fit jeans. I do a quick run through my hair with a brush, hoping to get rid of any frizziness. I grab my bag off my bedroom before rushing down the hall.

As I jogged out of the house, messenger banging into my knees as I go, I notice Quinn waving to a vehicle that just pulled away from next door.

"Took you long enough." She says before getting behind the wheel of her red Volkswagen Beetle, rolling her eyes.

Clearly I was right in my theory. Quinn Fabray definitely did not like me very much.

* * *

The atmosphere in the car on the way to school was just as uncomfortable as it had been in the kitchen. My attempt to make conversation with my new step-sister was quickly gunned down like things that got in the way when Scott Summers opened his eyes.

"Listen, I don't care if you're my step-sister or not. We're not friends. So unless we're at home with my Mom and Dan and you absolutely have to talk to me, don't speak to me unless spoken to, don't sit by me in the classes we have together or at lunch. Comprende?"

Quinn's voice was frighteningly intimidating, causing a slip in the stutter that had taken me two-thirds of junior high and freshman year to get rid off. "C-Comprende."

Neither of us spoke the rest of the five minutes it took to get there. Quinn was clearly not going the speed limit so we had managed to get there in five minutes and thirteen seconds. I would have to say it was slightly impressive given the morning commuter traffic. Once we had reached the parking lot Quinn was out of sight before I had even reached the front entrance.

I was pleasantly surprised to find the front door unlocked and the secretary in her office. Thankfully there had been arrows on the walls pointing towards the direction of the office. Otherwise I would have been waiting a half an hour until another student showed up to ask.

I had been sitting on a bench just down from my newly distributed locker comparing my schedule with a copy of Quinn's Judy had given to me after dinner the night before, we had two classes together (AP Chemistry and AP English), when a short brunette girl came into my line of sight. It became apparent that she had noticed me as well as she began to walk towards me with a large smile on her face.

"Hello there," She said as I took the time to notice what she was wearing. Her lack of fashion sense was a little frightening, especially considering the fact this was coming from a girl whose outfits consisted of comic book character or other nerdy ideas t-shirts, jeans, and workout clothes. "My name is Rachel Berry and welcome to McKinley. I've never seen you before so I would assume you're new to our humble high school."

"Uh, yes" was all I could think of to say. Her enthusiasm was a bit daunting.

"And you are?"

"Oh," I put my hand out for a handshake that is eagerly acceptable. "Brittany S. Pierce."

My name is barely out of my mouth before her eye widen in shock. "Oh my goodness, I didn't recognize you with glasses." I wasn't surprised at that, most people didn't. "You were the best dancer and assistant choreographer for Vocal Adrenaline since you were only a freshman! You're absolutely amazing!"

An undeniable blush creeps up on my face as I mumble out a thank you. If it was dancing praise that I was receiving I was always became a little embarrassed. I'd like to think it was because most people thought that self-proclaimed nerds like me had no co-ordination and could never dance themselves out of a cardboard box like I could. If I was ever grateful for my mother for anything it was for putting me into my first dance class at the age of three.

"Well as the captain of our glee club New Directions I'd like to invite you to join our club. We have a practice today after school to discus our plans for sectionals. We meet right after seventh period in the choir room."

Before I even had the chance to notice the hall was filling with students or to answer her we were both hit with a wall of liquid. It was so cold that it burned my face and my eyes, glasses could only protect me so much. As I tried to wipe it off it wasn't completely a liquid, it was grape slushy; I could taste the grape on my lips. Clearly today wasn't the best day to have worn a white shirt. I didn't get the chance to open my eyes before I heard yelling approaching.

"Azimo! Karofsky! What the hell do you think you two knuckle heads are doing?" The voice coming to our defence was surprisingly female.

"Showing the new nerd girl here what she has to look forward to if she joins that gay ass club you and your freak of a cousin Berry run." One of them snickers.

"Well the two of you better get out of here before I go all Lima Heights Adjacent on your pathetic doughboy asses. Comprende?" The use of the Spanish phrase reminds me of my conversation, or lack of, with Quinn this morning causing a shiver to go through me.

"Don't worry, we'll get you again later when the Queen's bitch ain't around." The other one says with a deep laugh. I hear the two boys' large feet scuffle away, causing me to release a breath I hadn't noticed I was holding.

I try to open my eyes to get a look at my heroine but I'm quickly stopped, "Don't open them. It will only make the burning worse." The mystery girl says, "Rachel, take her to the bathroom and help her get cleaned up. There should be two of my extra t-shirts in your book bag. It might be a little small for your friend but it'll do. I'll see you at home, tell Schue I've got practice today but I'll be there tomorrow."

As I listen to her I can feel my heart beginning to flutter, her voice is husky yet it has this smooth like honey quality to it. It makes butterflies appear in my stomach.

"Thanks S." Rachel replies appreciatively.

"No problem." She replies, suddenly I feel a hand on my damp shoulder. "Welcome to McKinley."

* * *

Except for the fact that I was walking around in a stranger's too small black McKinley Athletics t-shirt and I hadn't had the opportunity to ask Rachel who said stranger was the rest of the school day went by fairly smooth. I had only gotten lost once the entire day, which by my standards was a miracle.

The whole day I had argued with myself back and worth whether to go to audition for the glee club, I wasn't entirely sure if the slushy facials would be worth it. My mind was only made up once I overheard in the hallway at lunch. A smiling African American girl around my age and a clearly gay boy were discussing the rumour of Rachel inviting Vocal Adrenaline's best dancer and McKinley's newest student to join glee club.

"That'll show Jesse St. James not to mess with New Directions, especially Rachel Berry." The girl had said with a clear hint of disgust in her voice.

"Hail Barbra." The boy let out a laugh, "Nobody gives Rachel an egg shampoo and rinse unless it's me."

At the mention of the eggs I instantly knew who Rachel Berry was. Her name had sounded familiar this morning but after the slushy incident I never had the time to question it. They were both right, Jesse St. James was a pompous asshat that needed to be put in his place.

And I was going to be the one to help them do it.

That was exactly how I ended up standing in front of a dozen people showing off my best hip-hop moves to prove myself worthy of being a member of the New Directions. I hadn't even gotten the chance to get to my pop-and-lock before the teacher who ran the club stopped me.

"That is absolutely fantastic, Brittany! Clearly, you're very talented." Everyone in the room clapped, the football player with the Mohawk wolf whistled causing a blush to creep up on my cheeks for the second time that day.

"But what I'm sure everyone here is wondering is if you can sing? Dancing is a big part of what we do but singing is the key piece of our performance."

I can't help but swallow the lump in my throat; this had almost been a problem when I joined Vocal Adrenaline. But I had been lucky enough then that we had enough talented singers to cover the void I created when I lip-synced. But with a group this small I don't think lip-syncing was going to cut it.

"Uhm, I'm not tone deaf and can carry a tune if that's what you're trying to ask." I reply nervously. "When I was in VA there were enough of us that I never actually had to sing, so to be honest I really don't have singing experience but I can try."

He looked back to his team, earning a nod form both Rachel and the girl I had overheard in the hallway. "Well Brittany," he pauses to give me a wide grin. "Welcome to the New Directions!"

* * *

"Brittany, could you come here for a second please?" The teacher who I had learnt was Mr. Schuester called out to me just as I was about to leave the choir room.

I turned around to see him standing beside the piano with Rachel and Mercedes, "No problem, what's up?" I asked as I walked towards them.

"We were wondering if we could talk to you about the history of our glee club and why it's unique if you didn't mind." Mercedes answers with a smile.

"I'm all ears."

"Well there are three captains of the,"

"But I thought Rachel," I accidently cut Mercedes off. I forgot to mention I have a filter problem. "Sorry." I blush slightly in embarrassment.

"She is." Mercedes chuckles, "But so are me and Santana."

"Who's Santana?" I might not be great with names but that one I'm sure I'd remember.

"She's my cousin." Rachel answers, "You're wearing her shirt."

"Oh," My embarrassment levels were rising again. "Oh why wasn't she here then?" Santana's previous comment to Rachel about having practice was completely forgotten.

"She's on the varsity lacrosse team so her practices clash with glee club sometimes, usually once every two weeks." Rachel answers quickly.

"Anyways, on with the story," Mercedes chuckles again. "There used to be two glee clubs at McKinley, New Directions and an all female group called the Trouble Tones. Santana, Tina, Sugar and I used to be a part of them as well as a group of Cheerios and lacrosse players that chose to not to become part of this club when the school's budget couldn't handle two glee club. Santana was the only athlete who chose to stay. We were the co-captains of the Trouble Tones so that's why we have three captains to represent both parts of the group."

"Well that sounds pretty awesome, beating the other teams together rather than having to beat each other." I smile.

"The reason why they're telling you this is because we want you to understand that we're not trying to single you out when we ask you if you wouldn't mind the three of them helping you with your singing." Mr. Shuester finally cuts into the conversation.

"We've all worked really hard for this, as one team and as two, to not let you be an asset to this team but we need you to be more than just a dancer. We need you to be a dancer, a singer, and a team player. And we know that just by being on Vocal Adrenaline alone, not even seeing your audition today that you're willing to work hard at this." Mercedes continues on, trying to help him make his point as best as possible.

I can't help but grin widely, I know what it felt like to need to prove yourself and how hard they were working. I got the same feeling every time I took my glasses off to dance; the feeling that if you just work your ass off and make sure you have a good time doing it could make you capable of anything.

"So when do we start?" I chuckle, knowing that if this first meeting was any indication, I was in for one interesting school year.

* * *

"Dad?" I call out as I close the front door behind me. I received no answer but I could hear a small commotion coming from the kitchen, "Dad?"

I pop my head in through the doorway to find Judy managing numerous pots and pulling something out of the oven. Dad was attempting to tie the tie I had bought him last fall for receiving tenure at Ohio State.

"Dad? Why are you putting on a tie now, didn't you just get home from work?"

He clearly hears me as he turns to look at me, his face expressing a look of fear and panic, "because we're having an important dinner tonight." He says quickly before taking my elbow and ushering me out of the kitchen.

"What important dinner?" I ask as he motions for me to go upstairs, I don't speak again until we're in the confines of my bedroom. "What dinner are you talking about Dad?"

"I'm sorry, liefje. I forgot all I didn't want Judy to know I forgot. We're having a family dinner to celebrate us being finished the move and your first day of school and probably a whole bunch of other things I can't remember."

"If it's family dinner then why are you getting dressed up? Then what am I supposed to wear?"

"You're a girl, I'm sure you've got something to wear."

"Dad, the only dressy thing I own is my Padme Amidala wedding dress replica and I am NOT wearing that anywhere near food! And you didn't say why we we're dressing up!"

"Well, find something Bumble Bee. And because Quinn's girlfriend is here, so Judy's making it more fancy cause we have company. Now hurry, Judy is bound to say it's ready at any moment." He was out the door without another word.

After searching through my dresser I managed to find a pair of dress pairs from last year's dance recital number but no shirts that could have been deemed appropriate could be found. Thinking of no other option I went to my dad and Judy's room to borrow one of my Dad's dress shirts. I was lucky enough that my father was a kind of scrawny but tall guy so his shirt would only be a tad bit too big on me.

Plain white dress shirt in hand I left the room only to be stopped by my curiosity about the voices coming from behind the door of Quinn's room across from my own.

"Come on babe, please." Quinn wines ever so slightly. "Can't we just skip this dinner and go right to your place for dessert?" Quinn's voice was barely audible but even Beethoven could have heard the suggestiveness in her tone.

"No, Quinn. We've got to stay here. I've got to meet them some time and you need to learn to get along with them."

I knew that voice; it had that honey like smoothness with an edge that couldn't be replicated.

Oh my Galileo, this was going to be an unusual family dinner.


	2. II

Thanks for all the feedback on this first chapter. Just to reassure you that most definitely **Brittana** is **always on** (even if they don't know it quite yet), Quintana is only a **minor** plot point used to get the ball rolling as you will see in this chapter. Also, _italics_ used in speech is supposed to be read as being spoken in Spanish. Please keep up with the feedback, it really helps. Hope you all enjoy! (:

II

_Dear Diary,_

_I have to hurry; I'm going to be late for dinner. I'm terrified. I was about to meeting the infamous Santana. If her voice alone gave me butterflies, I was frightened to know what my reaction would be when I actually saw her. Having a filtering problem definitely was not going to work in my favour tonight. Hopefully I'll be able to keep myself in check. _

_Be back later hopefully,  
Brittany S. Pierce_

_P.S: Lord Tubbington, please save me if Quinn tries to kill me for saying something inappropriate to her girlfriend._

* * *

I managed to find a belt in my closet that must have been my older sister's at some point to put around my waist to make the shirt not look so box like on me. My hands were practically shaking as I closed the clasp.

'Relax, Pierce. You got this if you just chill out, the stutter and filtering aren't so bad if you're not tense.' I thought to myself as I checked my appearance in the mirror; normally I wouldn't indulge in such a petty act but if I was completely honest I really wanted to look good for Quinn's girlfriend. I wanted to make a good first impression. It was the least I could do after she rescued Rachel and me from those two slushy wielding idiots.

"Girls, supper's ready!" Judy's slightly shrill voice echoes up the stairwell, alerting me it was time to face the music. I rushed out of the room trying, hoping I'd be able to take my usual seat before Quinn or Santana sat there. Plus meeting at the dinner table rather than in the middle of the hall would in all likelihood go much smoother with everyone else as buffer.

I manage to grab my usual seat as my Dad puts his glass of wine on the table. "You okay, Bumble Bee?" He looks at me curiously before taking a seat at the head of the table on my left. "You look a little pale."

Just as with Rachel this morning I don't get the chance to answer. Quinn walks into the room, hand in hand with who I assumed was Santana. She was absolutely beautiful. Her eyes were a brown as warm as her voice, complimenting her long raven hair and high cheekbones.

"Britt?" My father speaks to me once again, alerting to the fact I had been clearly staring.

"Sorry, what?" I tear my attention from Quinn's girlfriend to my father, feeling blush creeping up on my face.

"I asked if you were alright." He smiles at me, clearly trying to not look too worried.

"F-fine D-dad." I stutter. Uh oh, this was not going to be good. "C-Can I be excused f-for a m-moment?"

My face is getting hotter and hotter. Despite the worried look that has formed on his face, he nods. As I get up from the table my gaze accidently meets that of Santana who had apparently sat across the table from me. The look of recognition and a small sympathetic smile on her face only makes me more embarrassed. I'm able to reach the bathroom without any further blunders. I can't help but hope that once I go back to the table Quinn and Judy will be doing most of the talking so I wouldn't be the sideshow for the evening.

As I reach the table after wiping my face over with a cool cloth, I notice Judy had joined them and seemed to be waiting on me to say grace. I wasn't much for religion but I had nothing against Judy's wishes for grace to be said at every meal and for me to visit Sunday services with her every once in a blue moon.

"Let's say grace shall we," she said as I took my seat beside my father and the table's only unoccupied chair. "Dear God, we would like to thank you,"

As Judy continued on with grace I opened my eyes. I'm taken by surprise as I noticed Santana was the only other person at the table with their eyes open. Clearly she notices mine are as well as she gives me yet another smile.

"Thank you." I mouth to her, I never really had the chance to thank her earlier due to the fact as soon as she welcomed me to McKinley she was gone.

"Any time," was all she was able to mouth back before Judy said 'Amen'. We both quickly shut our eyes, bowing our heads and followed Judy's lead as if we had been listening the whole time.

"Well, I supposed introductions are in order aren't they Quinny." Judy says enthusiastically.

"Of course," The eagerness in Quinn's voice is obviously fake; Judy and my father are oblivious.

I can't help but notice that Santana begins to roll her eyes but quickly stops herself before turning her glance to quick, the look in her eyes clearly tell Quinn to 'cut the crap'. Simply from being around them for less than five minutes, three minutes and 42 seconds to be exact, I could tell their relationship was definitely not as great as Judy had described to me. That was a frequent occurrence since Dad had begin to date Judy, practically everything I knew about Quinn I had heard from Judy and those things definitely weren't holding up to be one hundred percent true.

"San, this is Mr. Pierce" Quinn turns her attention to my dad.

My father sticks his hand out for a handshake. She takes his hand, giving it a friendly shake. "Santana Lopez, sir."

"Dan, his fine dear." He says with a small laugh.

"Dan it is then." Santana give him a small polite smile.

"This is my daughter, Brittany." My father turns the conversation's focus towards me.

"It's nice to meet you," She acts as if we've never met before, reaching across the table for a handshake. Ironically enough as I stretch out to take it my quickly clamming hand is shaking from nervousness.

Rather than saying the same thing or something that would have been even relatively appropriate I instantly go to this morning's incident. "I-I have y-your s-shirt, I'll w-wash it and b-bring it to g-glee club on T-Thursday."

I can't help but mentally face palm myself for the huge amount of stuttering I had just done.

She gives me a large smile when I pull my hand out of hers, "Don't worry about it. I've got at bunch at home. Rachel told me that you decided to join the glee club so it's probably a good idea that you have a back up wardrobe for occasions such as this morning."

Quinn's eyes look like their going to pop out of her head in anger; I can see her trying to withhold the grimace that was threatening to cross her face. Something told me that if Dad and Judy weren't here I would be receiving end of a lecture like I had in the car this morning.

"Thank you," I mumble out before taking a long sip of the lemonade Judy had made to go with dinner for us where she and dad had wine.

"I don't understand how they could be so cruel to you kids, all you guys are doing is singing." Judy says, a frown presenting itself on her face. "Though I would have to say Santana its great dear that you're able to be captain of the glee club and the lacrosse team, I don't think I could have done that at your age." I could tell that Judy was trying to talk Santana up to dad; Judy was a nice lady but she truly valued appearances way too much.

"Thanks, Judy. It's been rough the past to weeks trying to get ready for sectionals for glee and tomorrow night's home opener for lacrosse. I think I got it down though, luckily Rachel and Mercedes are great co-captains for glee." Santana say assertively, without a doubt trying to give credit where it was due.

As I take my first bite of chicken I can't help but notice that at the mention of Rachel's name Quinn's facial expression change. Her masked anger has changed to a look of discomfort and would I could only describe as guilt, but for what that guilt was for I had no idea.

"Brittany, you should come to the game tomorrow night, Quinn will be cheering for the team and I'm sure the Berry's will be there so you could sit with Rachel. You definitely don't want to miss the home opener, the energy is great." Judy was extremely enthusiastic about this game. Her long-winded suggestion sounded more like something I'd expect from Rachel Berry herself.

"You definitely should, glee club isn't the only great thing about McKinley." I look up from my plate to find Santana looking at me with a somewhat hopeful smile on her face; who could say no to that.

"S-sure, I'll ask R-Rachel about it tomorrow." I answer before going back to my plate, shovelling my fork full of three cheese noodles.

Soon enough the conversation had drifted away from me and I was able to eat in peace without another fit of stuttering.

* * *

"I g-got the dishes." I say as Santana begins to start tiding the table. It was quickly established that since Judy cooked one of the three of us would clear away the table and do the dishes; tonight was my turn.

"It's no problem, I can help." She replies quickly, obviously trying not to be a rude guest. Could she be any sweeter?

"You don't have to San, you said you'd help me with me my homework remember?" Quinn places a hand on Santana's arm, attempting to lure away from the table.

"You go on upstairs and get started, I'll be up once I'm done helping Brittany. It shouldn't take to long."

Quinn huffs at her response, letting go of Santana's arm. "Haven't you helped her enough today, I'm sure C3PO here can manage on her own."

"Quinn!" Santana yells at her, surprised at Quinn's comment. "Stop it!"

"Why? She knows I don't like her so what's the point Santana." Quinn crosses her arms defensively, clearly trying to get her way. The more time I spent with her the more I realized that Quinn was much like a child that if they didn't get their way would throw a tantrum left, right and centre.

"Are you serious Quinn? You're being extremely rude, and that is coming from me and trust me, I wrote the book on rude once upon a time if you remember." Santana was quick to put her in her place, which truly surprised me.

"I remember alright, but I guess you're past that. Why don't you just stay here with Dorkatron and I'm sure she'll show you out when the two of you are done."

Neither Santana nor I get the chance to respond as Quinn turns around leaving us alone in the dinning room. Before we knew it the sound of her bedroom door slamming echoed through the house.

As Santana looked back to me I immediately felt like I had to apologize to her, "I-I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for? You haven't done anything wrong." Her voice is softer then I expected, having changed from her firm tone she had used with Quinn.

"I-I didn't mean to c-cause any t-trouble." I spit out, trying to avoid stuttering though I ultimately failed. I hadn't stutter this much since the beginning of freshman year when the director of Vocal Adrenaline used to scare the living daylights out of me, thankfully I had gotten used to him by the time I was asked to become assistant choreographer after Christmas break. There was something about Santana that seemed to cause my mind to go to that place where my stuttering and filtering was hardwired.

"It's not your fault, I'm really sorry about the way she's been treating you. She's having a hard time not having her dad around but that's not an excuse. You're going through this too, so it's not like she's alone in this. She told me about the conversation in the car this morning, you're trying and she's not. So don't be sorry, she need to stop being such a brat."

"I, uh," was all that came out of my mouth. I honestly did not know what to say to her. It was clear that at this moment she was just as impressed with Quinn as I was; not in the slightest.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that at you. She's just really frustrating sometime, ya know?" Santana looks up from the stack of plates she's created on the table, lifting them up into her arms.

I simply smile slightly, giving her a nod to let her know I understood.

"Let's get started shall we?" She chuckles before heading towards the kitchen.

Washing dishes has never been so appealing.

* * *

"I'm so excited that you're coming to tonight's game. We go all out at the Berry house for Santana. You should totally come over before the game." Rachel said when I asked about the lacrosse home opener.

And of course I couldn't say no, so that was how I ended up at the Berry's house after supper. Rachel wasn't kidding when they said that they go all out. Soon as I had walked through the door Santana's uncle, who jut happened to be one of Rachel's dad, was quick to hand me a piece of cake he had made for Santana.

"Oh, thanks." I gave him a small smile before walking into the family room where Leroy had said Rachel was.

I'm taken aback when I find not only Rachel but Santana, Quinn, and a man and women who I assumed was Santana's mother and Rachel's other dad. The room is decorated with red and black streamers, the cake a had a piece of sitting on the coffee table reading 'Good Luck San' the rest of her name has been cut off having being eaten. Quinn's dressed in her Cheerios uniform while Rachel and the rest of Santana's family don red McKinley lacrosse t-shirts and have red grease lines across their cheeks. I can't help but feel slightly underdressed, in my Captain America hoodie and black jeans.

"Hey Brittany! Come on in!" Rachel motions to the seat between her and Mrs. Lopez on the couch.

Hesitantly I walk across the room, taking a seat. I take a bite of cake hoping it will stop Rachel or anyone else in the room for that matter, from expecting me to make conversation. My taste buds erupt pleasantly, the cake tastes as if it was delivered from heaven by gods.

"This c-cake is am-mazing." I stutter out.

As I look up from my plate, it's clear that I've taken them by surprise with my stutter. Santana's mother is look back and forth from Rachel and Santana as if to subtly ask what was wrong with me.

Rachel cuts the slight tension by responding. "I'll let daddy know you like it, he'll probably make it more often if he knows you like it considering you live next door. Lessons are definitely going to be more convenient considering me and Santana live under the same roof and you're just next door." Rachel answers sweetly, I can sense the slightly sympathy in her voice that was brought about by my stutter. I had forgotten she hadn't heard it yet.

"I heard that I was going to have to give you a few pointers, Pierce." Santana chuckles and Quinn shuffles slightly in her lap. "I'm going to make you work for it, you know that right?" A devilish grin crosses her face.

"B-bring it on." I smirk at her, surprising myself with my slight confidence.

"I think it's time to get going soon, isn't it?" Mrs. Lopez cuts in just as Quinn opens her mouth to speak, without a doubt saving me from another infamous Fabray comeback. "Hurry up and get your thing Santanita, you don't want Coach Bieste to be angry at her captain for being a bad captain do we know?"

"Yes Mami. Let's go Quinn." Santana says, patting her on the leg to get up off of her so they could leave. "We'll meet you guys after the game. Thanks for the dinner again, Mami." As Santana gets up to leave she places a kiss on her mother's cheek before following Quinn out of the living room.

"It was nice to meet you Brittany. I think there's an extra McKinley long sleeve if you'd like to borrow it dear, I'm sure Rachel could get for you." Santana's mother gives me as smile as she gets up off the couch.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lopez." The smile on Mrs. Lopez's face falters slight in surprise out of my lack of stutter but quickly goes back into shape.

Rachel grins, "Let's make a McKinley Titan out of you."

* * *

Never in a million years did I think that I, Brittany S. Pierce, would ever be at a house party at some random person's house. Luckily, I had been wrong. Santana had invited Rachel and me to the victory party at her friend Puck's house as soon as her mom left to go back to the car.

As soon as we arrived I was actually kind of shocked at how out of control the party had gotten and it was only ten o'clock. "Keep an eye on your drinks at all time, if you go to the bathroom go together, and whatever happens do not let anyone man handle you. If you guys have a problem, just give me a call and I'll be over to go all Lima Heights Adjacent on their douche bag ass."

"Thanks Tana." Rachel thankfully answers for the two of us, allowing me to hold onto my dignity again for a few moments.

"See you guys later." She says quick as she hauled towards the dance floor by Quinn.

The dancing going on in the middle of the living room was both horrendous and arousing at the same time. It was unfortunate sometimes that I practically had the mind of a teenage boy; the dancer in me wanted to criticize how appalling their technique was but the part of my brain where that teenage boy was located was saying 'who cares about their technique when they look like that'.

"Hi." I'm shaken out of my trance by the sound of a boy's voice standing next to me.

"H-hi." I reply as I turn to take a look at the stranger. His mohawk and football letterman jacket gave away his identity; Noah Puckerman.

"I wouldn't say that this was your scene Blondie, so whatcha doin' here?" He grins, clearly trying to flirt with me.

"It's Brittany actually and not usually but I thought I'd try something new for a change." I chuckle.

"Can I get you a drink?" His politeness catches me off guard.

"Sure thing, a corona and keep the top on it." As soon as the words are out of my mouth he gives me a wink before he's gone.

"You shouldn't accept drinks from strangers you know." A blonde boy with goofy lips I recognize from glee club comes around the corner. "For what it's worth though, I like your shirt."

I look down at me t-shirt; I changed into my Star Wars Millennium Falcon t-shirt after we had gotten home from the game. "Thanks, but do you even know what it is?" I was used to getting hit on a dance competition and guy liking my shirt was the usual pick up line even though half of them didn't know what fandom the shirt was even from.

"Of course, Han Solo's Millennium Falcon, the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs." He's fully impressed me now, his ability to quote Han Solo made me sure he wasn't being an ass trying to get in my pants.

"Impressive, sir." I chuckle at him.

"Sam Evans, I'm Mercedes boyfriend and I'm in glee club but I'm sure you knew that. Trying to remember all those new names is rough isn't it? When I first moved here I called Santana Tina once and she threatened to cut off my balls. She's something else alright." He chuckles.

"You're definitely right about that one," I giggle just as Puck comes back with my drink.

"Corona, cap on as requested m'lady." He bows slightly as he passes me the clear glass bottle. I twist the cap off and take a sip; missing the usual fizz of a sound it made when opened assuming that I couldn't here it over the sound of the music.

"Well I'll see you around Brittany, if you ever want to discuss any other sci-fi or comic related topics just give me a holler." Sam smiles before heading towards Mercedes who was dancing with Kurt on the makeshift dance floor.

* * *

Before I'm just about to take another sip of my beer when Santana's voice rings through my ears, "Brittany, put the bottle down." Her voice firm and filled with concern

"W-what w-why?" My voice comes out as a weird mixture of a stutter and a slur. I may have questioned her but I do as she says, lowering the bottle from my lips.

"Puckerman, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Santana yells, getting up in Puck's face while her own reddens in fury; if looks could kill. "You know who the hell she is, dickwad? _She's not a whore you can fuck just to get rid of your blue balls, you idiot. _She's Quinn's step-sister, asshole." The mixture of English and Spanish coming from Santana's mouth is slightly frightening, if she wasn't defending me something tells me I'd be shaking right now.

The look of pure terror on Puck's face would be priceless if it wasn't for the fact Santana looked like she was about to have an aneurysm. Even under all that terror I was still able to see the look of guilt that flashed across his face when Santana mentioned Quinn to Puck. What was it with guilt with people at McKinley? What was with my internal rambling? Do I always ramble this much? Do I do it out loud in public? I should ask my dad, he'd tell me.

"W-what are you talking about Lopez? I did exactly as she asked." Puck spit out looking down at Santana, trying to use his height to intimidate her.

"Stop shitting me, Puckerman. I saw you, you idiot." Santana responds, poking her finger into his chest. "You took the bottle from Azimo and Karofsky's **special** stash and don't you dare tell me you didn't know because I saw you ask them first."

Santana was getting really mad. I didn't want Puck to hurt her. I had to do something. I try to lay my bottle on the counter to help get Santana away from Puck but it turns into a disaster. My bottle misses the counter entirely and ends up smashing against the linoleum floor, sogging the feet of Santana, Puck and myself.

"Oh, S-Santana I'm s-sorry. H-here, let me clean your shoes." I begin to crouch down to the floor, completely oblivious to the fact that I have nothing to clean her shoes with. "T-T-they're very pretty, l-like you. Y-you're r-really really pretty." The words are out of my mouth before I can even think about stopping them.

No one says anything. I only feel a familiar hand on my shoulder and another wrapping around my waist. "Come on Britt, up you go." I feel the arms beginning to pull and moments later I'm back on my feet. I turn to see warm brown eyes looking at me with concern. "Brittany how many drinks did you have?"

"J-just the one on your shoes. W-well obviously n-not what's on your shoes but that was what was left of what I drank. J-just not even one." I'm quite certain what I said didn't need to be so complicated and probably didn't make any sense to her but Santana's eyes tell me she doesn't mind; they softened as soon as my stutter kicked when I began to speak.

"Santana I didn't do it," Puck says. He's still trying to convince Santana he's innocent of her accusation.

"Just like you didn't sleep with my girlfriend."

As soon as the words are out of Santana's mouth, the entire house goes silent; only the sound of the bass from the sound system bounding reaching my ears.

"Let's go Britt." Santana keeps her arm wrapped around my waist, before beginning to lead me carefully out of the house mindful of the broke glass at our feet.

If tonight was any indication, they were definitely on to something with Murphy's Law.


	3. III

**So sorry for being away for so long!** Real life has been getting me down for the past month and unfortunately my writing really suffered from it. I really hope that even with going back to school that I'll be able to get back a better writing schedule! Thanks for your patience with me! Thanks again for the feedback on the last chapter. As for characterization, Santana is definitely not completely cannon but she does have her moments. **Bold is flashbacks!** I hope you guys enjoy (:

III

The fact I had woken up with a headache was soon forgotten as I realized I wasn't in my bed. Sitting up faster than I thought was humanly possible I look around the room. I don't recognize the black blobs I've assumed are furniture or the charcoal grey walls; the blurry posters on the walls were definitely different than those I had on my own. Where the hell was I?

"Good morning." I practically jump out of the bed at the sound of Santana's voice coming from across the room.

"H-hi" My heartbeat finally begins to slow down as I realize I was in Santana's room. Wait! I was in Santana's room, which means I was in Santana Lopez's bed! My heartbeat increases once again in embarrassment, a blush creeping up on my cheeks.

"I'm assuming you can't see anything right now." Santana's chuckle echoes throughout the room.

"N-not really n-no." Before I can pull myself out of the bed, a warm grab on my wrist stops me.

"Here," I can see the blurry figure of Santana kneeling down in front of me; her arms come towards me slowly placing my glasses on my face. "There, that's better huh?"

I can instantly feel the blush creep up on my face as I take Santana's striking features. Her usual cool, calm and collected to demeanour had returned after last night yet I could still see pain in her eyes.

"Uhm, I brought you breakfast," I look over on the desk to find a box of Lucky Charms. "Quinn mentioned once that it was the only thing you'll eat for breakfast."

"I'm sorry." The words are out of my mouth before I even get the chance to stutter. Santana only raises her eyebrow in response. "A-about Quinn."

"Oh, that." A look of hurt crosses her features for moment but is gone again at Millennium Falcon speed. "I'm sorry about last night. I should have known better than to not forget to mention not to ever take a drink from Puck."

"It's o-okay. The moh-hawk should have b-been my first c-clue. W-why didn't you break up sooner?" I can't believe I just said that. Damn filter. "I s-shouldn't have s-said that. I-I'm sorry."

"A bit too heavy of a topic for first thing in the morning, come on and eat your breakfast we'll talk later." A sad smile crosses Santana face as she shakes the box of Lucky Charms. "Quinn mentioned how they were the only thing you'd eat for breakfast once so."

"T-thanks." I get up out of the bed, taking a seat on a large black ottoman next to her at the desk.

"Not a problem." She replies, pouring both her and myself a bowl followed by a glass of apple juice. "Is apple okay? I should have asked before I poured it but,"

"I-It's fine." I say, interrupting her adorable rambling. "Y-you didn't have to do this."

"Yes, I did. Us New Directions got to stick together." She motions back and forth between us, drawing attention to my attire. My Star Wars t-shirt and black jeans had been replaced with a tight fitting black Troubletones 2010 t-shirt and a pair of bright red basketball shorts that were shorter on me than they would be an average height girl. Clearly, my surprise at my outfit had shown on my face as Santana speaks again. "Yeah I didn't think that you'd be comfortable in your clothes from last night and lent them to you. You don't remember?"

My mind runs through last night's cloudy memories, eventually stumbling upon the moment in question.

* * *

"**Come on, Brittany. Time for bed." Santana's voice sounds like I'm underwater. I wish I was swimming right now, I love diving. I bet I'd be wicked good if I actually went to lessons like I did with dancing. "Brittany, are you even listening?"**

"**Y-yes, I am l-listening. Santana, c-can we go s-swimming? I'm r-really really w-warm." Logic went straight out the window as my hands take a mind of their own begin to take off my pants and t-shirt revealing the lightsaber decorated underwear set my dad had bought for me as a joke. Lightsabers are no laughing matter.**

"**Brittany, what the heck are you doing?" The look on Santana's face is almost indescribable; my best guess would be a mixture of pleasant surprise and concern. Though there's a possibility I could be wrong considering I highly doubted Santana found lightsabers as interesting as I did.**

"**G-getting ready to go s-swimming. People w-wear underwear to swim some t-times right?" **

"**Yes, they do but we're not going swimming." Santana averts her eyes by heading to her dresser. "We're going to sleep, so put these on." Hands over her eyes she passes me a bundle of clothes.**

"**If I'm going to sleep with you, I think it would be a hell of a lot easier if I wasn't wearing these." I wave around the clothing in my hand.**

"**Brittany, put the clothes on and get in the bed. If I come back here in five minutes and you haven't done what I've asked I'm bringing you to my mother to deal with. Do you understand?"**

**Despite the completely serious look on Santana's face I can tell that she probably wants to laugh at me. My ex told me I was a pretty big hoot when I drank, though I didn't drink that much even if I felt like I did. Or did I drink that much I can't really remember. **

"**Brittany? Did you hear me?" She hesitantly places her hand on my bare arm.**

"**Ma'am yes, ma'am." I smirk at the realization I didn't stutter. Brittany 1, Stutter zero… plus infinity.**

* * *

"Oh d-dear god." My face instantly burns up with a blush as I burry it in my hands. Roofies and me clearly do not get along. "I am s-so sorry."

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault. You wouldn't have done that if Puck never slipped you those roofies. Or at least I don't think you would." She chuckles before giving me a soft smile causing me to blush even more, if that's possible. "I'm just joking."

I take a spoonful from the bowl of Lucky Charms Santana had set out for me, cereal only, trying to avoid responding. Thankfully it works, the rest of breakfast is spent in almost completely silence, the only sound coming from the chewing of cereal or the sipping of juice.

"I think I better get you home before your dad or Judy starts to worry. Thankful Rachel was able to cover for you and texted your dad and told him we were all having a sleepover to bond for glee club." Clearly Santana was good at lying, or at least telling little white lies. I definitely wouldn't have been able to come up with something like that on a whim.

"Uh, I guess. T-Thanks again." I respond reluctantly, I was hoping to spend more time with Santana where I actually remembered what happened and didn't make a huge fool out of myself.

"Not a problem. I'll just bring this down and you can get changed. Meet you downstairs in fifteen?" Santana begins to pile up the dishes onto a tray before giving me yet another smile.

I nod, not trusting myself enough to not say something stupid or something I shouldn't.

Before I know it she's out the door, leaving me alone in her bedroom. I take the time now to study Santana's room. The charcoal of the walls was contrasted by the deep red bed spread, and posters including the likes of Alanis Morissette, Amy Winehouse, and a random large X-Men poster.

Clearly, I knew less about Santana Lopez than I thought I did.

Sluggishly making my way up to my room after thanking Santana once again, I'm taken by surprise by a commotion in the porch. Even with just sticking my head out so that my eyes are just past the door frame the look on Santana's face is heartbreaking. The conflict behind her eyes that she was clearly trying to hide made her look like a young child.

"Quinn, I don't know what to say." Santana's voice is surprisingly soft, much unlike the intensity to her usual tone.

"Then don't say anything," I can barely see Santana, but the action of Quinn wiping the tears from her cheeks was unmistakable. "Let me do the talking."

"I can't," Santana voice has become slightly more forceful, less of a ghost of it's usual self.

"I won't give up on you, Santana. I know that you probably hate me right now, and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I didn't think I ever could but I did." Quinn sounds like she's choking back a sob. "I know that I don't deserve a second chance but I love you. I love you and I don't think I can let you go."

As much as I wished Santana was interested in me and no matter how much I'm not fond of Quinn Fabray, my step-sister sounded pretty damn convincing and remorseful.

Something tells me this situation was not going to end up in my favour.

As per usual, I was correct. Returning to school on Monday it was impossible to ignore the sight of Quinn practically attached to Santana's hip. She was hanging on her every word, acting like a lost puppy. Despite how every time I saw them together my heart dropped, I was happy to see a small sliver of Santana's usual spark back in her eyes.

"You ready, Pierce?" The sound of Santana's voice almost causes me to drop my physics textbook. I manage to fumble it back into my arms without injury to my toes, surely making myself look like more of a klutz than I usually was.

"Huh?" was the only word to come out of my mouth. Then again it was suiting considering I had no idea of what Santana was referring to.

"Your first lesson with Rach, ya know? After glee today?" She chuckles as I begin to nod in realization. "Us Espinozas are tough, you better be ready for some tough love from the hobbit 'cause she gonna to tell yas traight up how it is. Comprende?"

Her slight use of her ghetto talk causes me to laugh a little, earning myself a smile. "C-comprende." My response is interrupted by the fifth period warning bell.

"I better let you get to class. Wouldn't want the future valedictorian to be late now would we?" She gives me a wink before disappearing down the crowded hallway.

Apparently, someone told her about my high academic ability and something told me she wasn't likely to forget about it.

* * *

"Come one everybody, take a seat." Mr. Schuester booms as he enters the choir room. "Let's get down to business. This week's lesson is going to be a tough one." The top of his white board marker squeaks as he writes this week's one-word lesson on the board.

"Uh, do you really think this is a good idea Mr. Schue?" Mercedes is the one to speak up. Her tone alone told me that she thought this was going to turn into a train wreck.

"Yes, Mercedes. I think this is a perfectly good way to clear the air in this room before sectionals." There was no doubt in his mind this going to go off without a hitch.

"Mr. Schue, I agree with Mercedes." Rachel begins to protest but is quickly silenced.

"I appreciate your guys' concern but we're doing this lesson. Anger is something every single one of you has for something in this world whether you bottle it up and let it out. It may be towards a situation, a thing, or maybe even towards a person in this room. I want to give you guy an outlet to safely get rid of this anger so that we all have a fresh mind ready to prepare for sectionals."

After his small speech, he is quick to pass out sheet music for this week's group number. I'm pleasantly surprised to find the alto section highlighted on my sheets. I'm put in an even better mood when I realised what the song was; Sing by My Chemical Romance. If this song choice was the group number for the week, I was definitely excited to see what my fellow glee club members were going to choose for their own songs.

"So what did you think of this week's lesson, Brittany?" Rachel asks me as we pull into her driveway. She had offered me a ride home after glee club after I arrived at the parking lot and Quinn's car was no where to be found. She had said it was no big deal considering I was going to her house any how.

"I hope that it doesn't turn into a blood bath. That's all I've got to say." I didn't mention how I thought the group number was going to be brilliant. Rachel's face had screwed up when she was first give the song; I don't think she had ever heard of My Chemical Romance before today. I was going to mention it but I managed to stop myself.

"I completely agree. Do you have a song in mind? I'd be completely happy to help you work on it considering it is my turn this week to mentor you."

To be perfectly honest, I hadn't really thought of what I was going to sing. I was way too wrapped up in trying to guess what song Santana was going to sing. I could see a flash of excitement cross her face when Mr. Schue wrote 'anger' on the white board. It was perfectly clear to everyone who had met Santana's Lima Height Adjacent side that she had something she was angry about. Nobody who was perfectly content that could turn rage off and on like a switch like she did.

"No, not yet. I'll try to think of one when I get home." I give her a soft smile. I definitely didn't want her to think that I wasn't taking glee club seriously.

"Well in that case, we'll probably just do some scales today so I can figure out your range. We could try to find a song if we have time, okay?"

"Sounds great. Did you pick a song yet?" I was hoping she already had because I really didn't think I could help her find a song, she was Rachel Berry after all.

"I do believe so. This has been something I've want to get off my chest and I think this is the perfect way to do it." She gives me a wide smile as she unlocks the front door of the house.

"Well that's great." I give her a nod before following her into the house.

About halfway through the scales Rachel had planned on going through with me I practically dive under the living room baby grand piano to hid at the sound of the front door slamming.

"Brittany?" I could barely hear Rachel's voice above the sound of what I assumed were Spanish expletives echoing through the house. "Brittany, it's okay. It's only Santana. It's okay." Her tone was soft and comforting enough to stop the whimpers that were threatening to escape from my mouth.

As the shouting continues I'm surprised to hear Rachel shout back, "Santana, stop it!" The tone of Rachel's voice does the trick as the shouting turns into grumbling. It's only completely silenced when another slam of a door signals Santana had gone to her room caused me to startle again.

"Brittany, you can come out now." The irony of Rachel's word is not lost on me as she leaned down to try to coax me out from under the piano. "No one's going to hurt you, you're safe here okay?"

Rachel reaches her hand out as if to help pull me out. She leaves it there for me to take, not trying to force me if I wasn't ready. I take a few deep breaths before looking from her hand to her face. I was surprised to find a lack of pity in her face; all I could see was concern and compassion. Two things I had previously told by Jesse St. James that Rachel Berry was incapable of.

Of course, being the doofus he was, Jesse was wrong about that.

Slowly, I reach out and take Rachel's hand. Before long I'm sitting on the couch with a glass of water in my hands.

"My dads always give me a glass of water to help me feel better when I need it." Rachel's voice was unusually calm as she sat in the armchair next to the couch, only a gap created by a small side table between us.

"Thanks." I said before taking a long gulp, nearly finishing off the whole glass.

"Did you want to talk about it?" I could tell her question wasn't one made out of purely human curiosity; she was generally wondering if I thought I'd feel better if I talked about it.

"My mom used to slam the front door after she had been drinking a lot. At first it was only once every two weeks or so. Eventually it became an every day occurrence, sometimes even twice a day. Every time she'd come home and slam the door my older sister would hide me under the dining room table or one of our beds. Sometimes we didn't have much time so I'd have to hide behind the couch."

I take a quick break in my story to drink the rest of my water.

"She'd hide me to protect me from my own mother, so I wouldn't get hurt or have to watch my mom hurt her. Sometimes we'd both get hurt, sometimes she'd be too drunk to even make it past the front porch and she'd pass out on the floor." I could see Rachel's eyes widen in shock as I continued on. "After my dad found out he tried for years to get custody. Where the courts try to keep children with their mother and he couldn't prove my mom's abuse, we didn't get to live with him until after the accident."

"Uhm, how long did you live with her?" I could sense Rachel's hesitance in asking question. I had learnt quickly over the past few days of knowing her she really wasn't quite the type to pry.

"My parents got divorced when I was six and the drinking didn't start until I was about eight or nine. I lived with her until I was thirteen, which was when the accident happened."

"Was everyone okay?"

"Thankfully, everyone was pretty much fine except for me. I got the short end of that stick."

I can't help but laugh slightly. I remember the doctors telling me that I was lucky, that if I had been any shorter than I was the damage would have been much more severe. I remember being thankful that I had called shotgun that day and not my sister; despite being two years my senior, after my first growth spurt she was at least three inches shorter than I was at the time.

"I'm terribly sorry that happened to you, Brittany." Rachel takes hold of my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "How long did it take for you to recover? Catching up on school must not have been too bad considering who you are." She gives me a small smile.

Clearly, my father must have been bragging about my intelligence in front of Quinn; who had likely mention it to Santana who mentioned it to Rachel. Sure, I was in all AP classes but that didn't mean everyone automatically assumed I was Stephen Hawking 2.0.

I think over her question in my mind. I've always thought that there had been two parts to my recovery; the part that allowed my to be physically capable of doing things I loved like dancing, and the part that allowed me to live a fully capable social life. Honestly, ever since the beginning of my recovery I knew that one of those parts could never recover completely.

"I never did. Not fully any how." The words that come out of my mouth feel like I've taken part of the weight off my shoulders.

Rachel doesn't say anything for a few moments. I wait patiently to see if she can get there on her own. It takes less time than I expected before she asks, "Is that why you,"

"Stutter?" I fill in the end of her hanging question, hoping it would dissipate any awkwardness. "Yes, that is why."

It doesn't take very long before I can see the cogs turning in Rachel's mind, much like Mrs Lopez's had, wondering why I rarely stuttered around her but turned into a stuttering mess in front of Santana.

"I went to speech therapy for three years for the stuttering, the filtering problem that I got from the accident I've had to try and work on on my own. The filtering takes the most self control, I've had to learn a lot of it all over again."

"Then why do you stutter in front of Santana?" I don't even get the chance to answer her question before she's apologizing. "I shouldn't have asked that. I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that."

"Rachel, it's okay."

This time it's my turn to give her hand a squeeze of reassurance. "It happens with certain people. It's like all the effort I put into learning to filtering and stop stuttering created a switch in my brain. And sometimes certain people turn that switch off."

It probably sounded silly but it was the only way I knew how to it explain it to her.

"So it's only with certain people then?"

"Well that, and if I'm really anxious about something." I laugh, hoping she doesn't feel awkward.

"So are you attracted to any of these certain people as much as you are to my cousin?" Rachel's question is emphasized by a wink.

"Hey!" I giver her the best glare I can out of embarrassment.

"Well, your cheeks practically turn as red as a fire engine whenever she's mentioned or you talk to her. It's not like we're blind, Brittany." Rachel laughs.

"Fine, I'll give you that one." Rachel's laugh becomes more of a childlike giggle at my admission of being attracted to Santana. "And to answer your question, no, most definitely not." There was no way I was attracted to Quinn or my mother.

"You know that phrase, 'can't live with em', can't live without 'em'? That's the way Santana and Quinn have always been that way, ever since Uncle," Rachel stops short, clearly realizing she was about to say something she shouldn't. "I think Santana should be the one to tell you this story. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's okay. I've only ever seen them together since I've moved in and even I can tell that there's something not right there. I'm going to assume since I managed to pick out Quinn's name within all that Spanish she's what had Santana so riled up."

A chuckle escapes from her lips before she responds. "Well, let's just say that I think you'd be much better for Santana." Rachel gives me a soft smile, almost like she was giving me permission to take a gamble on Santana.

"Thanks." At my response I can feel my cheeks begin to heat up from the blush creeping upon my face.

Rachel's mouth widens into a five star smile. "Now, how about those scales?"

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_ How someone as great as Santana ended up with a girl like Quinn is a complete anomaly. That is all._

_Brittany S. Pierce_


	4. Author's Note

_I am so sorry for being away for so long. University has been destroying all my free time. I'm hoping to get back to writing really soon. Unfortunately though, 'You Belong With Me' has been left too long for me to get back into my mindset for it and that it will likely never be finished... m__y completely mindset of that universe is completely rattled.__ If anyone would like to pick it up please send me a message and I'll be glad to hear your ideas and likely let you take it over… Sorry to disappoint you guys :(_

_Color _


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